


From the Heart (A Sherlock / Molly story)

by lilbakonbit



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: (The fact that's a tag makes me giggle), F/M, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Fluff, Gift Giving, Love, POV Sherlock Holmes, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 02:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11431692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilbakonbit/pseuds/lilbakonbit
Summary: Molly's birthday was coming up, and John suggested that Sherlock try to get a gift from the heart. For Sherlock, that was one of the hardest things he's ever had to do. So hard in fact, he got more than he bargained for from it...





	From the Heart (A Sherlock / Molly story)

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N: Nope. Don't own Sherlock. Don't own Molly. Don't own the show or anything relating to them or it or anything)
> 
> This is Post Season 4. Probably a bit after the 'Love Confession'. Enough for the sting to go away, for them to all continue with their lives.

_Smudge on her right hand. Ash. Cigarette? No, too dusty. Fireplace. Singed hairs on her wrist. She threw something in the fire before she left. A note? Letter from her ex. Eyes bloodshot. Break up letter? He found someone else. No, guilt on her face. Dressed in a hurry, wearing conservative clothes, whilst makeup suggests she was preparing to go out. She found someone and was caught. She’s meeting with her lover. Hands shaking, eyes uncertain. Nervous. Breaking it off? No, too late for that. She’s—_

“Sherlock, have you heard anything I’ve said the past two minutes?”

John’s agitated voice broke through Sherlock’s train of thought and he started. Giving the dark haired woman sitting opposite them on the Tube one last once-over, he turned towards his companion with a neutral face.

“Yes, yes. You were going on about the mundane details of tomorrow’s surprise party for Molly. We agreed that I’d try to pick out a gift for her myself, which is where we’re currently heading.” _Gift giving is not my forte. Usually given out of obligation. Not sentiment. Molly is, however, sentimental. Must find her a gift with personal meaning. Rules out lab coats and test tubes._

“No…” John sighed, growing even more frustrated when he saw Sherlock’s eyebrow raise in confusion. “I was actually asking you if you had figured out what may have caused Mr. Roberts’ cardiac from the case we investigated yesterday. But, since you apparently weren’t listening—“

“Demerol. Roberts’ drink was spiked with a lethal dose of the drug before he got in his car and drove away, only to crash twenty minutes later. Everyone assumes it was from the alcohol but he was only partially intoxicated, I’d guess no more than a 0.06 BAC at the time of the crash. Way below limits. He was drugged, by the girl’s ex-lover who had found out about their affair after searching through her text messages a few nights before. She did well to hide it, but he’s in love with her and instead of risking losing her, thought it best to destroy the problem—Mr. Roberts—himself. Tell the Yard to get access to Eric’s apartment and you’ll find his little stash of painkillers.” Sherlock concluded his deduction and turned again to the brunette, who was now engaged in an in-depth telephone conversation, this time with tears in her eyes.

 _Is it the lover? No, she’s speaking too freely. More than likely a best friend or sister… Tonight is not going to end well for her._ Sherlock lost interest in Miss Cheater and closed his eyes, leaning his head back into the seat. _Molly Hooper could be that best friend. The friend one calls when advice is needed. Or a hug. Molly Hooper’s hugs are gentle. Gentle friend. She is the best friend._

After a moment of silence, John spoke up. “How did you get so adept at these cases of the heart by the way?” The awe could be heard in his voice, and Sherlock couldn’t stop the corner of his lips from turning upwards in response.

“I have a great teacher.” He opened one eye and glanced sideways at John, flashing a genuine smile before retreating back into his mind. “Let me know when we make it to St. Paul’s.”

 

***

 

“I could get her a mug.” Sherlock, scrutinizing a white coffee cup with the chemical compound for caffeine etched on the side, scrunched his face. “She likes coffee.”

John, with an exasperated sigh, reached up and took the mug from Sherlock’s hand and placed it back on the shelf. “No. Impersonal. Too generic. Try again.” John took the consulting detective by the arm and guided him towards the back of the trinket shop towards the more delicate gifts. There were racks of necklaces, bracelets and earrings on the left counter, while the right counter housed watches and rings. “Try something for _Molly_ , not Ms. Hooper. Understand?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, glancing over the selection of jewelry with a quick pass, before pressing his lips in a thoughtful frown. “Molly… short. Brunette. Innocent, always fresh faced. Pathologist. Simple makeup. Except when she’s feeling lonely. Likes cats…” Sherlock paused, his eyes fixated on a charm bracelet decorated with a small silver kitten charm along with a pet food bowl, and the word ‘Meow’. “I could get her a cat.”

John ran his hand over his face. “Sherlock, you don’t buy other people pets…” Sherlock noticed his friend’s attempt to hide a grin, and took satisfaction in inducing amusement in John. He turned back and reached out towards the bracelet, studying its construct and the weak structure of the charms themselves. _Easily breakable. Made in a factory. Cheap, not for Molly. Molly deserves better…_ Startled by that sudden thought, he almost ripped the bracelet off its hook.

“But…” John dropped his hands as an idea popped into his head as he watched Sherlock so intently examining the charms. “You might be on the right track…”

“Oh?” Sherlock cocked his head to the side as he fingered the bracelet thoughtfully. “How so?”

“Trust me?”

Sherlock turned his head, curious to what his friend could be up to. After studying John’s face, currently contorted in an excited grin, he gave a curt nod. Then, for the second time during their visit to the trinket shop, John took him by the arm and pulled him along. Sherlock didn’t protest.

Ten minutes later, Sherlock and John found themselves at the entrance to a shop well-known for personalized gifts and jewelry: Swarovski. After they crossed the threshold, John guided Sherlock to the back of the shop and gestured with a flourish to two large enclosures, both illuminated with bright floodlights.

“I thought _I_ was supposed to be the one picking out a gift for her?” Sherlock asked with an amused twinkle in his eye. John snorted in response, and Sherlock smiled. _Guess I’m getting better in the humor department. Making friends laugh is… satisfying. Have to make John laugh more._

“Yeah well, that was before I realized just how hopeless you were when it came to gifts from the heart. Besides, I’m just guiding. You’re still deciding.”

“Fair point.” Sherlock let the subject drop and looked into the glass case before him, scanning over the assortment of crystal figurines and pieces of jewelry. Each piece carried a unique flair, some with subtle coloring in the crystal, while others were chiseled intricately, taking many shapes and forms. His eyes landed on one figurine in particular, a small chubby cat with blue sapphires in its eyes in the pose of playing with a tiny crystal mouse. _Looks like Toby. Sentimental value._ Next to it hung a necklace with a thin chain and another crystal figure, this time a long, slender silhouette of a cat with black tips on the ears and its tail in the shape of a heart. _Looks like… Me? Possible romantic value._ On the shelf below, he eyed up a palm sized sleeping cat, rolled onto its back on a pink tinted ‘pillow’. _Looks like Toby again. Humorous value._ Sherlock smiled, resting his fingers against the glass as he continued to gaze at the complexly etched and, admittedly, beautiful pieces in front of him, making notes of each of their values and possible impact on Molly’s happiness. The crystal was not his style of art, of course, but for Molly Hooper…

“Didn’t take you as the type to buy useless trinkets, John.”

“Normally no, but back when I was dating Mary, I—“ John’s voice trailed off, and Sherlock looked back at his friend, a gentle expression on his face. “Well, it made her happy.”

“I see,” was all Sherlock said, the look in his eyes speaking volumes. John only nodded and cleared his throat. “Well, I believe I have chosen my gift for Molly. Go fetch the cashier.” Sherlock straightened and shoved his hands in his coat. “Oh and John?” he added as John turned to find someone who worked there.

“Yes, Sherlock?”

“Thank you. You’re a… good man.” _Appreciate and compliment more. That’s what friends do._

John smiled and waved down a salesperson.

 

***

 

“She’s on her way,” John announced, shoving his cell back in his pocket before lifting his mug off the bar top. The group of seven that included John, Sherlock, Greg, Mrs. Hudson, and three of Molly’s personal friends, had arrived thirty minutes prior to the small tavern down the street from Molly’s to set up for her 38th birthday surprise. It wasn’t meant to be anything extravagant, so everyone had been surprised when Sherlock suggested the balloons and small cupcakes with pink and silver sprinkles.

_Favorite colors. Likes sweets. Cheeks flush when she’s happy. Cute laugh. Make Molly laugh more. Make Molly happy… She deserves it…_

“About time.” Sherlock huffed as he leaned back on his barstool with elbows resting behind him. In one hand he held a snifter of brandy while the other gripped a small red box with silver ribbon. “Who honestly shows up late to their own surprise party?” He scrunched up his nose as he took a sip of his drink, ignoring the bemused stare of both Lestrade and John, and also ignoring the sudden tightness in his stomach, which the brandy helped soothe with each sip.

 _Not nervous. It’s just Molly for goodness sake. Friends for years, my confidant, friend. Trustworthy. Kindhearted. Selfless. Pretty…_ Sherlock shook his head, clearing out that last thought.

“I’m going to just assume you’re messing with us and ignore that,” the detective inspector remarked as he shook his head. “Come on, John. Let’s make sure to give the bouncer a good description of Molly so he doesn’t embarrass her.” Both men left Sherlock to his thoughts and his brandy.

Sherlock took inventory of the group around him with a careful eye. Random strangers grouped up here and there, some dancing to the music while others laughed and drank together. The chosen bar seemed fitting for Molly’s personality, having upbeat but not overbearing music, a smaller crowd which seemed to have a more mature temperament. Sherlock glanced back over to their private corner. The girls mingled happily together on the sectional in the corner, with Mrs. Hudson regaling Molly’s friends with what he assumed were embellished stories of Molly with him or John at Baker Street. He listened in best he could, finding himself oddly curious of what suddenly made one of the girls, the blond one, look over at Sherlock with surprise.

“…Christmas when he… No one even said a thing to… when Irene Adler had… “

Sherlock sat up straight, tuning out Mrs. Hudson’s words at mention of The Woman, suddenly gripping the small wrapped box tightly. Memories of that particular Christmas party flooded his mind and he groaned inwardly. The image of Molly’s pained face as he had humiliated her caused a knot to form in his stomach. He had really been ruthless back then. Ignorantly unaware of Molly’s feelings for him, and ignorantly unaware of how his blunt deductions had hurt even the most loyal of his companions. It had been five years since that day, since his first heartfelt apology to Molly… to anyone, for that matter… and he found himself still feeling guilt over his actions. True, gut wrenching guilt. Molly deserved to be treated so much better. _Sweet, caring Molly. Loyal. Intelligent. Considerate. Beautiful Molly…_ This time, he let his thought linger, running the word over in his mind like a gentle breeze. _Beautiful…  Worthy of love and companionship._ His grip on the gift relaxed as he closed his eyes, retreating into his Mind to sort out the sudden onslaught of emotions he felt.

_Am I good for her? Of course not. Married to my work. No time to reciprocate. She’d love hard, and I’d more than likely ruin it. No. I’d hurt her. Don’t hurt Molly. Ever again. Beautiful, lovable Molly. Yet, if she already loves me, am I already hurting her by avoiding her? The Gift… Sentiment. Romance. Humor. Friendship. Will she like it? She will. But will she understand my attempt to express my—_

“There he is!” a soft, higher pitched voice called out and Sherlock snapped his eyes open. “You missed the surprise, silly!” The blond from earlier bounded up and grabbed Sherlock by the elbow, pulling the confused detective towards the group. Girlish giggles and deep laughter surrounded him as he was practically forced into the middle of the group. When he got his bearings finally, he looked down and saw Molly looking up at him, tears forming at the corner of her eyes.

“You did this all for me, Sherlock?” She sniffled and rubbed a tear from her cheek.

 _Is she upset? Why would she be crying…? No. She’s happy. So happy her cheeks are flushed… so beautiful. She’s laughing. My heart is thudding… what is this… Molly Hooper is so… beautiful… No other word can describe her._ Sherlock’s eyes landed down on her lips. Every ounce of reason and logic inside Sherlock derailed as he placed his brandy down on the table a second before wrapping his hand in her hair.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, Molly Hooper,” Sherlock whispered before all logic, all thought, all reason flew out of his mind and he pulled her in for a tender, passion filled kiss. His heart thudded so hard, he barely heard the small group around them gasp and begin to murmur their surprise. His mind reeled from his decision so wildly, he barely caught Molly’s mewl of confusion right before she began to reciprocate.

_Good. Mutual. Soft. Oh… lovely lips. Soft. Warm. Feels… I’m feeling… This is…_

Molly broke the kiss first, leaving both of them standing there, stunned with their hands in each other’s hair and breathing hard.

“What was…?” Molly began.

“You are…” Sherlock said at the same time.

Both Sherlock and Molly stared at each other for a moment before breaking into quiet laughter. Sherlock tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace with a sigh of relief, still choosing to ignore any and all reactions surrounding them, still choosing to ignore the red flashing warning sign in the back of his Mind telling him this went against everything he had believed in for so long.

_Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side… But she feels so good against my chest. Perhaps I’ve been wrong this whole time. Molly deserves happiness… Molly deserves so much better…_

“I am so sorry about all the times I ever hurt you, Molly Hooper.” Sherlock finally stepped back, holding her by the shoulder and still carrying the red package in a vice grip.

Molly tilted her head to the side and stared up at him, a mix of curiosity, confusion… and thankfully still happiness. “You’re forgiven…?”

“No, Molly. I never forgave myself. And I… never intended to kiss you. That was—“

“—Incredibly amazing.” Molly interrupted, flashing him a shy smile. “Don’t apologize anymore, Sherlock. I was just wondering when you were going to finally deduce that.”

“Deduce what?” Sherlock looked at her with a confused expression.

“That you love me too.”

The words hit him hard in the chest and he mentally backpedaled. Sherlock stepped back and held out the package. Still ignoring the crowd. Still ignoring the angry voice in his head. _My ears feel warm. Am I blushing? No. Just a bit stuffy in here. The hug… gentle friend… Love…_

“This is for you. Happy birthday, Molly.” Sherlock didn’t look back at her as he laid the package down in her hand. _I… love…_ Sherlock exhaled slowly and forced a smile on his lips before finally looking up into her eyes again, feeling the same warmth come over his cheeks now. _Love isn’t… Fuck… She’s…_ He swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat. _Breathtaking… Why hadn’t I noticed that before?_

“Oh?” Molly took the package and examined it a moment before gingerly taking off the silver ribbon. “Why you didn’t have to—Oh…. _Oh_!”

Molly gasped softly as she reached inside the box and carefully took out the necklace, holding the pendant in the palm of her hand. Sherlock’s forced smile turned genuine as Molly lifted a hand to her lips, eyes fixated on the small pendant. The long slender cat with the heart tail rested gently in her grasp, with a few variations from the store version. With the help of an engraver, and a large monetary tip, a small blue scarf had been etched onto the silhouette, and from the tail hung a tiny, brown tinted crystal violin.

“It’s so lovely…” Molly breathed, holding it up to her neck, astonishment written all over her face.

 _Just like you…_ Sherlock coughed. “I’m glad you like it. Here,” he reached up and took the necklace from her and motioned for her to spin around. He positioned the chain around her neck and gracefully clasped it before brushing her hair with soft strokes back around her shoulders. It took all his willpower not to lean down and kiss where her throat met her shoulder. _Inappropriate. Lust. Not good. Behave. Friend. Lovely, beautiful friend…_ Sherlock cleared his throat and dropped his hands. “Well, let’s see it.”

Molly spun, and did so slowly to make sure everyone in the group saw. It was then, it finally crashed down on Sherlock that they were, and had been, watched by everyone at the party. His body stiffened, and he stumbled back out of the limelight, and watched as Molly walked around, showing off her new necklace, getting hugs and questions from her friends.

_You’re such an idiot…_

“Did you say something?” John asked, sauntering up next to Sherlock as the focus went, mercifully, from him and Molly to simply Molly as the women and men exchanged more gifts with her. Molly looked back at him for a brief moment, and Sherlock could almost _feel_ the affection in her gaze. “I mean, I wish you would say something. What the bloody hell _was_ that, Sherlock?”

“What was what?” Sherlock feigned ignorance, taking another swallow of his brandy, noting how low he was getting. “It’s her birthday. I gave her a gift.” _Best not discuss it. Not until you figure out yourself. Idiot._

John placed a firm hand on his shoulder and turned him. “No. Sherlock. People don’t just _kiss_ like that for a birthday gift. That was…” John gestured his hand around, attempting to find the words.

_Idiotic, John. It was absolutely idiotic…_

“Passionate. Intimate. Sentimental. I know, John.” Sherlock sighed, downing the rest of his glass. “I need another drink.” He pivoted on his heel and marched up to the bar counter, flagging down the bartender to signal for another. John followed close behind.

“No. What you need is to explain to me why you kissed her. I mean, we were all sitting there watching, thinking you were about to pick her up in a fireman’s carry and take her home with you, what with the eye sex you were throwing at her.”

Sherlock about choked. “I’d never do that. That would be—“

“Sherlock. I know. But come _on._ What are you going to do about this?”

Sherlock paused, hand resting on his new glass of brandy. He actually didn’t know. Reality sunk in and he felt that now familiar knot in his stomach again, attempting to process the conflict between the facts and these brand new, out-in-the-air feelings he had for Miss Molly Hooper. He didn’t have an answer for this.

_Leave. Don’t get involved. It’s dangerous. You’ll crush her. Kissing her like that, giving her such an intimate gift… You’re such an idiot. Idiot. Idiot…_

“John, I can’t… I made a mistake.” Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut, waving off the voices bashing him with negative words and accusations. _You’re going to hurt her again. Idiot. Illogical. Sentiment. Loser. Heartless bastard._ “No!” Sherlock slammed his fist on the counter and stormed off, brushing past John as his coat swirled around him and ignoring John’s call out to him.

Sherlock hurried his way down the steps into the cool, damp London air while digging frantically in his internal coat pocket for a cigarette. He took long, purposeful steps until he found himself in the alley between the bar and the building over, pressing his back against the cool brick as he lit the cigarette and took a long, deep drag. As the swirl of smoke rose above his head, he blocked out all outside distractions and retreated himself to his Mind again, holding onto the anger towards himself and the careful bubble he had created for his Molly. His Molly… Was she his? Seven odd years and she still cared about him. Seven years of his obliviousness, his insensitivity. Seven years and this is the first time he made any effort to put her feelings first, and he had to go and do something as stupid as kiss her like a sex starved teenager.

Sherlock sunk himself down onto the pavement below, wrapping his coat around himself as he tucked his knees into his chest. Taking another drag of his cigarette, he leaned his head back. None of this made sense to him. Which would explain why he avoided emotion at all cost, when he could. His friendship with John was one thing, having a connection that was beyond words, and beyond explanation. It felt right, having someone to turn to with his life if need be, someone to bounce ideas off of, share experiences with, and work as a team. It took years for him to accept even that bit of information.

With Molly… Yes, they shared the same closeness, but he could always tell it was more for her, and he chose to hold her at a distance. But now after tonight, that wall was gone. Now, for the first time, The Woman excluded, he couldn’t contain the physical and emotional responses Molly provoked in him. His heart thudded hard in his chest, palms sweating as he ran a hand through his hair… his brain felt fuzzy and he could barely focus, which was the worst part of all this. She had unintentionally scrambled his mind and that terrified him more than anything. Sherlock Holmes, the famous consulting detective, found himself having a hard time concentrating. All because of Molly… sweet, loving Molly…

_I want to kiss her again. Hold her… Give her better… I’ve put her through hell and back, and she fucking deserves better than that, Sherlock. Give it to her._

With a shuddering breath, Sherlock felt a tear drop down his cheek as he took another drag. Standing, he snuffed out the cigarette and pivoted, turning to return to the party. As he stepped out of the alleyway, he was startled to see a small figure standing at the corner.

“Sherlock? Are you okay?” Molly’s voice sounded strained, but the concern was apparent.

Sherlock looked away, regaining his composure best he could with such a short amount of time. “Yes, Molly. Why do you ask?”

Molly stepped up to him and placed her hands gently inside Sherlock’s coat, resting them on his hips. Sherlock stiffened and held very still, watching as she moved inches from his chest and glanced up at him, her eyes bright and full of gratitude. “Because what you did back there… With the present, setting up the party for me…” Sherlock noted the blush creep into her cheeks again, making his stomach do a flip. _My beautiful girl…_

_No… don’t get involved. Stop it… You’ll only hurt her… You shouldn’t—_

“It was very romantic. Very sweet. Very Un-Sherlock.” Molly laughed quietly and pulled him closer, taking it upon herself to wrap herself in his coat, laying her head on his chest. Sherlock continued to stand rigid and unresponsive, but he didn’t move to stop her. “I can hear your heart, Sherlock. It’s in there, I know it is.”

“I never said I didn’t have one, Ms. Hooper. But you need to understand that—“

“—Sentiment is a weakness. You don’t do love. Blah blah blah, Sherlock.” Molly lifted her head and gazed up at him with a small smile. Sherlock felt his body relax a fraction. Her smile was intoxicating… _Again, never noticed before. Her smile could make a weaker man fall to his knees._ “After that kiss, I don’t believe that for a damn second longer, Mister.”

Sherlock tilted his head to the side and looked down with pained eyes.  He reached up finally with one arm and tangled his hand into her soft brown hair. “I’ll only hurt you…” he whispered, his voice barely audible, but he could tell she heard him because her smile faded. “Please, Molly…”

“What? What do you need me to say to you?”

“Please… I’m scared. Terrified. You’re so full of love… beauty… tenderness… and I’ve held such a disregard for such things for so long—“

“That you don’t know what to do now that you’ve allowed yourself to feel emotions.”

“For you.” Sherlock amended quickly, the hand in her hair tightening. “It’s always been you, Molly. But I’ve already put you through so much.” His gaze intensified, trying to express all the conflict inside him, allowing her to see the guilt, the regret… the raw fear he felt about the whole situation. He needed her to understand.

“Yes. Yes you have. So why put me through never knowing? Why put me through the loneliness, when all I’ve ever wanted _was_ you, Sherlock?”

“I’d devastate you.”

“I know.”

Sherlock paused at her response, startled. “Then why—“

“That’s what love is, my dear detective. Love is about taking risks. You won’t know what will happen if you don’t try. You’ll devastate me either way, so why not allow me the chance to prove to you that it’s okay to love? That it’s okay to trust your emotions every once in a while? It’s okay to allow yourself to be devastated. Sometimes it can be the most glorious thing in the world.”

“You deserve better.” Sherlock swallowed hard, trying not to allow the tears to form again. _Not in front of her._ “I’m just a high-functioning sociopath that gets his rocks of on solving murders and—“

“I’m an awkward pathologist that enjoys dissecting the dead and going for drinks afterwards. We’ll make a lovely couple.”

Sherlock cracked a smile at that. “So you liked the gift?” His fingers untangled from her hair to brush lightly over her cheek. _Lovely. Soft. Warm… Comfortable. Yes. I can try. Protect her. Keep her safe. Give her better…_

“Of course I did. I always thought you’d make a great feline.” Molly giggled, snaking her arms around his waist. “You already have the qualifications, what with being quite standoffish with strangers.”

“I’m a bit aloof.”

“You’re very cocky.”

“I can be a bit self-assured.”

“Posh and sassy.”

“Hey now,” Sherlock argued, holding up a finger in protest, “let’s not get ridiculous.”

“Kiss me again. Please.”

“My Molly…” Sherlock pulled her face up to his and kissed her, gentle and soft and full of nothing but a promise to do his best to make her happy. _She deserves it._

_And perhaps, so do I…_


End file.
